Megan
The door shuts quietly behind me, sealing us in with a click. I’m having trouble processing what has happened here. Brian is standing between my handsome lover and myself. He is red-faced, sweating, and very clearly agitated.
John sits at the desk, not moving a muscle. He looks utterly calm to my surprise, and incredibly handsome too. I can barely breathe, but I take in the dark hair brushed off his forehead, and the expensive suit. I also see that this office clearly belongs to him. He has a computer before him, as well as notes scattered over the surface. He’s Metro Media’s CEO.
John is the CEO of the company I work for? How did this not come up, and why would he hide this from me? And what role does Brian have in this?
I shake my head with confusion, but it’s all starting to come together. This is how John knew so much about my industry. He answered my questions with thought and consideration, but now I realize that he wasn’t answering from a place of general business experience. His experience was specific! Too specific in fact.
Plus, there were all those strange circumstances. For example, when the flowers showed up in the break room before the office opened. I’d assumed it was Brian, but it was actually John. And the way John never really talked about his business or his family. He was always vague, and then he’d turn the conversation back to me. Now, I know why.
But how does Brian know him?
Then, another terrifying realization dawns on me. Miller. Oh shit. They share the same last name, although it’s a common one. I look at Brian, and then at John, taking them both in. My mouth opens in horror as I begin to note the similarities. Black hair? Check. Blue eyes? Check. Handsome features, and a tall, athletic frame? Check. Of course, John is about twenty years older than Brian, but didn’t he say that he has a son about my age? A wave of nausea comes up in my throat, and I literally clutch my stomach, bending over a bit.
However, before I can finish processing, Brian begins raging at John. He’s screaming so furiously that spittle jets all over the office.
“So, how do you like sloppy seconds, asshole? Are you aware that your little slut slept with both of us?”
Normally I would react to this stream of invective, but I’m motionless with horror. I stand stock still because Brian’s technically right. I did have sex with both of them, albeit Brian only once and after too many drinks. But John comes to my rescue. He stands, rising to his full height, and his blue eyes glow with cold anger.
“You will not disrespect the woman I love,” he manages between gritted teeth. “Get yourself in check, boy.”
Oh my god.
I feel my heart contract. Did he just say that he’s in love with me?
“Dad,” Brian starts, and my heart contracts again, but for a different reason this time because this is my confirmation: John and Brian are father and son.
I feel like I’m going to vomit because this is far too much for a person to take in all at once. In one afternoon, I’ve discovered that John hid the fact that he’s the CEO of the company I work for; that he’s in love with me; that I’m pregnant with his child; that his son is my boss; AND that unfortunately, I’ve slept with a father-son pair. Who does that? What kind of girl am I? I feel tricked, manipulated, taken advantage of, and utterly stupid. Yet my heart races because John said he loves me.
Is John the man I think he is? But why did Brian panic and run off when he saw him? Why didn’t he say hello? Why did John keep this from me the entire time? What else has been hidden from me?
I stumble to a seat by the window, beginning to feel like I might just pass out from all of the hysteria. I shakily lower myself into the chair.
“Dad, you don’t realize how horribly fucked up this situation is,” Brian rages. His face is red and he looks like he’s going to pop a vein. He holds out my pregnancy test. “Megan is pregnant. And the baby could be either yours or mine. What the fuck? What the fuckity fuck?”
I can’t take it anymore and begin to sob heavily. Turning to John, I decide to put it all out on the table and begin to blubber.
“Yes, Brian and I had a drunken hook-up a few months ago. If you had told me he was your son, I would have shared this with you. But I never knew it was relevant! Why didn’t you say anything?”
The anguish in my voice is palpable, and I continue.
“And yes, John, I found out today I am with child. But the baby is yours! I know it is, and there’s no chance it isn’t. I love you, and I am pregnant with your child, but I’m absolutely horrified and terrified now that I realize I actually know nothing about you. How could you not tell me?” I demand, my voice becoming hysterical.
My handsome lover stands silent for a moment, and there’s no expression on his face. I have no idea what to expect and begin to cry even harder.
But then, John turns his gaze away from me and fixes it on Brian. The antipathy and threat there make us both shiver.
“I love Megan, and I will treat this child as my own, whether it is my child or my grandchild. Megan and the baby belong to me, and you better get yourself out of here before I pound you into the ground. No one treats the woman I love like that, and that includes sniveling weaklings who have the audacity to come into my office drunk.”
Is that true? I look up swiftly and regard Brian. Yes, he’s red, puffy, and sweaty, but he’s almost always red, puffy and sweaty. But now that he’s been called out, I can see it. The bloodshot eyes, the shaking hands, and the lack of impulse control give it away.
Unfortunately, Brian has no idea that he’s been overpowered and outclassed. He begins to scream at his father like a child having a tantrum. He shrieks and cries, with tears coming down his face. A bright red vein is beginning to bulge from his forehead, and then to my horror, Brian literally throws himself down on the floor and begins kicking and screaming the way a toddler would.
“Dadddyyyy!” he wails. “You’re scum! To fucking betray your own son this way. You saw me at the table with her. You just had to intercept, and take what was mine. What kind of fucking father does that? And all these months, you’ve had the nerve to hide it!”
Disgust crosses John’s face.
“What choice did I have? You showed up drunk and then abandoned her with the check. You have my DNA, and I felt obligated to pick up the pieces you left scattered on the floor.”
Brian bursts into fresh tears, pounding his fists on the floor. He’s sobbing and sniveling, with snot dripping from his nose.
“Do not give me that crap, Daddy! If that were the case, you would have been honest with Megan about who you are, and your relationship to me. You would have told her that we’re father and son, but you didn’t! Because why? Because your relationship is dirty, nasty, and filthy, which is how you like it, Daddy!”
It’s seriously freaking me out to hear Brian refer to John as “Daddy.” I don’t think John likes it either because he grimaces each time his son says the word.
“Get off the floor, Brian. Be a man. This is embarrassing, and I feel embarrassed for you.”
Brian just shakes his head and continues pounding his fists on the floor, letting out wail after wail of agony. John grimaces while staring at his son.
“Look Brian, I’m sorry. I did swoop in and steal your date that night. But you left her at the table, and Megan was utterly stunning and yet devastated by your actions. And how the fuck was she going to pay the bill? Did you think of that?”
Brian presses his visage into the carpet, and it looks very strange because he’s literally facedown.
“But you didn’t have to have sex with her! What kind of fucked up father does that?” he moans in a muffled voice.
John’s disgust is rising with every second that passes, and he jerks his head away, as if he can’t bear to look at his son.
“What’s done is done, Brian. We can’t turn back the hands of time.”
“You lied! You hid! You betrayed us both!” Brian screams. “And now, you’re lying about this baby. That child is mine! You’re too fucking old to be having a kid. You’re too old to be with Megan! The baby and Megan are mine! Miiiiine!”
As he gets more and more hysterical, his voice gets louder and more insistent. The vein in his face seems to be pulsating, and I worry he is going to have an aneurysm. There is so much chaos swirling around us in this small room, and then it suddenly happens. One moment, Brian is screaming on the floor, and then suddenly, his arms and legs drop, and he’s still and lifeless on the ground. The office is silent, except for my gasp and John’s breathing. What just happened?
“Brian!” I scream, hurling myself forward to crouch by his prone form. “What’s wrong?”
Immediately, John’s on the phone.
“Get an ambulance. Call 9-1-1,” he instructs the person on the other line, and almost immediately, I can hear a flurry of activity. But I’m too shocked to take it all in. Brian is limp, lifeless, and now as pale as a ghost as he lies on the floor. Will he be okay? And what’s going to happen to my relationship with John? I love John, but we have very serious problems, and I have no idea how they’re going to be resolved.